


Mixed Emotions

by Terminality



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminality/pseuds/Terminality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow-up fic to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/331548">Time Shenanigans</a>, from Karkat second-person POV upon request in the kink meme. The poorly titled semi-sequel in which Karkat is a cuddly beast and Terminality decides all trolls love human sweets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixed Emotions

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty self-indulgently shippy and ends on a somewhat short note, but I was asked for a continuation with overly-clingy Karkat and DaveKat implications, so here it is!

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are not exactly sure what happened to you for the last twenty minutes of your life. You remember yelling at Dave about god only knows what, then you remember absolutely nothing at all, and the next thing you knew you were waking up in Dave's bed mid-sentence with both time players staring at you like you'd grown a second head.

You're pretty sure he did something incredibly moronic. Quite frankly, this doesn't surprise you, because Dave Strider is always doing something incredibly moronic. You think it is probably in his blood. You two share that in common, it seems.

When you get back to your respiteblock, you lay down on your pile of blankets and scalemates and stare at the ceiling, rubbing at your temples and between your horns with your fingertips, fighting back a headache. You have no idea what happened. You have no idea why the sight of Dave's face had made you feel so _calm_ back there, like he had just told you that you were being absolutely silly for thinking there was anything wrong in the first place, the same way your lusus would back home.

That's the part that bothers you, really. The fact that he seemed so familiar in that moment, like someone you had seen before. You had wanted to go up to him and do things you weren't going to think about right now because they were still weirding you out.

You'd wanted him to pat you on the head and say "good job" or something equally stupid.

Maybe you were having some kind of intense dream. You tend to do that, when you sleep for your few hours a day. You wouldn't sleep at all if it wasn't for Gamzee and Terezi on your case about it every day, but you think now might be a good time for sleeping. Maybe you'll wake up and stop feeling so goddamned weird.

\---

When you wake up, you immediately walk to the food preparation block, intent on making yourself some breakfast and forgetting all about the weird probably-a-dream experiences of last night. You are intent on those stupid battery disc things that John always makes - pamcakes or whatever the fuck - and you are going to make so many of them the whole meteor could feed itself ten times over. It helps relieve stress, something John has been telling you you need to work on, and pamcakes are your go-to stress relief lately. They are incredibly easy to make and sweet and you like them. It is the only human food you've been able to stand eating so far, other than Jade's tiny cakes she sometimes makes.

You have a stack of five or six of the floppy breakfast foods going next to you when you hear his voice somewhere behind you and you bristle, almost losing your grip on the food preparation device in your hand.

"Sup, Karkitty. Oh fuck yes pancakes, don't mind if I do," Dave Strider's voice is all calm, collected lulls and he reaches right past you and grabs a plate from the shelf above your head. It puts his chest uncomfortably close to your arm and you push yourself as close to the food heating system as possible to get away from him. He always does this, touching you when he can get close enough, some kind of ironic ploy to piss you the fuck off. It works almost every time.

He rubs his sleeve on the plate to clean it off before grabbing half the pamcakes you've already finished, tossing them on his plate and grabbing up a utensil in one smooth motion. You finish the cake you're currently cooking, flop it onto the stack of the others, and turn on your heel, lips tight in annoyance.

"Did I give you permission to eat my food? Did it possibly pop into your inferior thinkpan that maybe the reason I am here cooking breakfast is to, oh you know, eat it myself, and that I have no interest in sharing it with your ungrateful ass?" He shrugs, mouth already full of syrup and cake, and you want to smack the stupid little look off of his stupid, pale face.

"You couldn't eat 'em all on your own, Karkles. I'm doing you a favor by saving you the stomach ache from trying," he says it around a mouth full of food and you make a very exaggerated gagging noise in response, because it's disgusting and he clearly has _no_ sense of manners. You wonder if that weird human lusus of his even taught him _anything_ when he was a wriggler.

"I could have eaten them all just fine, but now instead I have to live off of this paltry amount of pamcakes you've left me with. I hope you're happy that I might fucking starve to death because you are an insensitive, demanding asshole," you say, as you pour a copious amount of syrup onto the plate and take a seat at one of the benches you've set up in the room. Dave sits down across from you and you scowl at him.

"Did you just say 'pamcakes?' It's _pan_ cake, dude."

"Get away from me. There are other perfectly fine benches in this area for you to grace with your obnoxious, coolkid presence." You stuff a fork full of _pan_ cake into your mouth and you glare at Dave through narrowed eyes. Even the fluffy sweetness of this breakfast confection cannot make you any less annoyed about his constant need to follow you around and harass you. You think he needs to get a fucking hobby.

"Nah." You groan, trying to instead ignore him and focus on your breakfast. Maybe if you eat as fast as possible you can get out of here and away from him and go hide in some corner of the meteor. That sounds like a good plan.

You note that you feel only annoyed with his presence, which you guess is actually a pretty good thing, all things considered, because the feeling from yesterday was so weird and strangely familiar and you don't really want to think about it.

You are broken from your thoughts when he reaches forward with his fork, stabbing a corner of your pancake and pulling it off before eating it. You snarl at him and pull the plate closer to you.

"You have your own! They are literally sitting right in front of you, why could you possibly want to reach over and make my life even more miserable by being even more of an uncaring nookstain. I am amazed with how--" He laughs very quietly at you mid sentence, and before you have reached the end of your rant he sits his hand on your arm and you sort of just run out of ideas, because his hand is warm even through your sleeve and it feels oddly nice and soothing.

You stare blankly at him, and he stares back, moving his fingers on your arm very, very softly.

"Dude, chill out." You do. You are so chill in this moment that you are giving Strider a run for his money in the chillness department. For some reason you don't really feel angry with him any more.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever. 'M not even hungry any more anyway," you say it in a gentle muffle beause you are very distracted in this moment by the feeling of his hand moving to your wrist and the look he is giving you over the top of his glasses. You think maybe he looks a little curious, but you don't pay too much attention to that, really, because he is trying to hold your hand and his fingers are kind of sticky with syrup but welcomed anyway.

You don't really know why it makes you feel this way. It's like moirallegiance, almost, but different, something more familiar, even if you can't figure out why. You don't offer much protest when he leans forward a little and puts his hand in the space between your horns, fingers tangling into your hair.

You do much the opposite, actually.

You chirp.

The moment the sound leaves your throat you feel like a wriggler, because it's a noise reserved for more personal interactions and responses, and you can't believe it just escaped your chest. He looks at your face, one eyebrow raised, before ruffling your hair a little between your horns.

"Huh. Guess it is soft," he says it very quietly, mostly to himself, but you hear it anyway because of how close he is and how surperior your troll hearing is. He clears his throat. "See, isn't this better? We are all chill here, nothing to have a fucking rage aneurysm about."

You chirp again when he brushes his fingers along the base of your horn, because it's a soothing feeling, and it makes you feel sort of tingly and calm all over.

You really aren't expecting it when he kisses you. Actually, on the list of all the things that could have happened in that moment, him leaning across the table and pressing his lips to yours was probably the last on that list. It was so far down the list that you hadn't really even entertained the thought.

It is probably the most awkward kiss you have ever experienced. Well, to be quite honest, it is the first kiss you have ever experienced, but you like to think you are somewhat of an expert on the matter, because they seem pretty easy to understand in movies. You think that they are not normally supposed to be this awkward, with Dave barely able to reach you and one hand on the top of your head and the other holding your hand. He tastes a lot like syrup and his lips are sticky for the same reason, which you think isn't supposed to be right, either.

You think on that for a second and decide it's not a bad thing, really.

He pulls back and stands up before you can open your mouth to say anything. The look on his face is as confused as you feel, and you stretch your fingers out toward him absent-mindedly when he grabs his plate and clears his throat again.

"Looks like there is a way to calm you down. Who would've thought."

When he leaves the room you give him approximately one minute before you toss your plate into the sink and follow after him. You are not letting him get away that easily, not without some kind of explanation for the effect he has on you, the way you feel calm and relaxed around him, how you have no idea what happened to you yesterday evening.

Why the fuck he just kissed you and why the fuck you liked it so much.

You catch up to him just as his door is shutting and you stick your hand in the way to try to stop it. Which is stupid, fucking so, so stupid and ouch goddamn shit fuck you are an idiot, past you is so moronic that it is amazing that he is even still alive at this point, why would you stick your hand into a metal door _anyway_.

He opens the door again at your swearing, looks at your dark gray and already slightly swollen finger, and takes a deep breath. He steps to the side to give you room and you step in and look around his room, trying to avoid making eye contact. Last night was the first time you've ever been in here, and you're kind of surprised to be back again so soon. Your life hasn't been making much sense lately, it seems.

"What." The way he says it makes you feel incredibly irritated with him all over again and you spin around to face him, grabbing a handful of his shirt.

"What _what_. I'm the one who should be asking that! What are you doing to me? What did you do to me yesterday?" You push yourself closer to him and he just stands there, arms hanging at his sides, while you wrap your arms around his chest. You are just kind of doing what feels right at this point and you know how his hands on your hair and arm made you feel, how you feel calm and relaxed when he touches you and you want more of that.

You want him to kiss you again, too. You are not going to tell him that. Not yet at least.

He doesn't push you off, but he doesn't move his hands to touch you, either. You want to snap at him in annoyance for that, except you really don't feel too annoyed with him right now. He is too soft and warm for that. This feels sort of familiar, you pressing your forehead to his chin and your face to his neck. You don't really know why.

"Apparently I did break you, jegus fuck." His sigh is a little overdramatic coming from him, and you roll your eyes, even though he doesn't see it.

"What the fuck do you mean you 'broke me,'" you ask, nuzzling into his neck at the same time. He tries to hide the startled, almost panicked noise he makes, but fails miserably.

This is weird. It occurs to you in the back of your brain that this is very, very weird. The warm, tingly feeling you get being so close to him doesn't seem to mind much, though. It is almost like some primal part of your brain has reverted to cuddle mode and all you really want him to do is pet your hair more.

"Look, yeseterday I. Uh. I may have kind of fucked with time. In relation to you. And ended up babysitting a Karkat grub for like a half hour, and you thought I was like your dad or something and fell asleep on my neck," he says it uncharacteristically fast and you pull back from his neck and stare at him, incredulous.

"You did _what_."

"It was a fucking accident, alright? I just meant to shut you the hell up for a second," he falls silent after that, looking at you over his shades almost like he's expecting you to do something, and you just kind of watch him calmly for a moment. It makes sense, honestly. It's almost like you can remember it happening, the way his hand on your head a few moments ago felt so familiar and soothing, except you obviously can't because you were a grub when it happened.

You scoff, backing up a little so you can get a better look at his face.

"You're a fucking moron, Strider. Did you know that?" You press your hand to his face when he tries to say something in response, shutting him up. "Don't answer that, fuck. Besides, that still doesn't explain why the hell you kissed me."

He shrugs.

"Striders work in mysterious ways," he says, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you in for a hug, and you cling to him again to get more of that warmth and comfort. It's not just the familiarity of it, you realize. It's the nagging feeling you've been having lately, the reason you let him follow you around and harass you all day.

You might be a little flushed for him.

Or is it pale? You don't think so, since you have Gamzee, who you are most definitely still very pale for. But it feels pale, in a way.

Or maybe both? You are sort of really fucking confused on the matter, despite all your knowledge on romance and quadrants.

"Whatever quadrant this is, it's pretty fucked up, I hope you know that." He laughs and it tickles your hair against your ear when he does.

"Sounds about right."


End file.
